Liz scheer’s nocturama
When I first met Liz Scheer and saw her work, I have to admit—I didn’t get it. Her body of work felt deep and complex, almost overwhelming. To start somewhere, I decided to focus on just one painting: It is my duty to point out the pattern, even if there is no pattern at all. I spent months with this piece, letting it reveal itself to me little by little. A friend of mine attended the opening reception and admitted he struggled to connect with Scheer’s art, so I wanted to share my thoughts after taking the time to sit with this painting and find my way into Nocturama.
Scheer’s solo show, Nocturama, invites viewers into a space of contemplation and existential introspection, where meaning is at once pursued and questioned. At its core, Nocturama resonates with a theme central to both existentialism and Zen philosophy: the complex interplay between the human urge to find patterns or coherence in the world and the recognition that these patterns may ultimately be arbitrary. Scheer’s work draws viewers to reflect on the paradox of interpretation, suggesting that our attempts to impose meaning might be acts of self-discovery or creative defiance against a seemingly indifferent reality.
In an existential sense, Nocturama mirrors the individual’s struggle to find or create significance in a world that may lack intrinsic purpose. Existential thought often emphasizes the inherent meaninglessness of life, presenting individuals with the “duty” to craft their own purpose, values, or narratives. Scheer’s art, then, could be seen as a visual manifestation of this struggle—a deliberate act of shaping coherence and depth out of chaos, even while knowing that the coherence might be an illusion. This approach reflects existential defiance, a choice to search for or impose meaning despite knowing that life itself may offer none. Scheer’s compositions, layered with both explicit and implicit symbols, appear to beckon viewers into this confrontation with the void, subtly suggesting that our interpretations, however arbitrary, become a source of personal empowerment and self-defined purpose.
This act of “pointing out a pattern even if it doesn’t exist” also aligns with Zen principles, which question the very nature of imposed meaning. Zen philosophy often uses parables or koans—enigmatic stories that seem to defy logical interpretation—to nudge individuals toward a deeper understanding that transcends intellectual reasoning. By encouraging the viewer to meditate on the apparent patterns or symbols within her work, Scheer brings them into a kind of Zen practice, challenging them to let go of the compulsion to logically interpret or categorize each element. Instead, Nocturama invites an experience that is more about presence and awareness, a surrender to the mystery within each piece. Through this Zen-like approach, Scheer’s art creates a space where the viewer can momentarily release the need for concrete answers, embracing instead the beauty and wisdom found in accepting ambiguity.
Together, the existential and Zen influences in Nocturama create a dialogue between meaning and meaninglessness, between the urge to interpret and the willingness to let go of interpretation. Scheer’s art seems to suggest that meaning can be both constructed and released, allowing viewers to oscillate between creation and surrender as they interact with her work. This tension reflects a deeper truth about human existence: while we often seek to impose order, the acceptance of disorder or randomness can lead to a more profound awareness and peace.
Reflecting on Scheer’s work, I was brought back to the moment I first received *The Little Book of Zen* from someone I like to think of as my “secret weapon.” When I opened the book, I was both curious and completely adrift, unsure of what lessons I was supposed to gather from it. But every night, I’d read a new page before bed. And each night, my dreams grew vivid, strange even, and somehow, by morning, I’d wake with a sense of something new—an understanding I couldn’t quite put into words. Some of the koans stayed hidden from me, while others began to reveal their meanings over time. It dawned on me that maybe I wasn’t ready yet for all the book’s lessons, that maybe it required more life experience or simply more time spent in stillness, contemplating even the smallest details of my days.
Life, after all, is mostly made up of these quiet, seemingly uneventful moments. I’ve come to see them not as filler between the “big” moments, but as life itself—the true shape of it. As I look at Scheer’s paintings, I see them as the tangible form of this meditative state, a reminder to be present with every moment as it is. Her work feels like an invitation to let go of searching for meaning and to rest in the simple beauty of each experience, without needing it to add up to something larger.
Ultimately, Nocturama is an exploration of the human compulsion to find coherence in the world, and it honors the beauty of both seeking and letting go. Through her art, Scheer offers a space to experience meaning as something both imposed and fluid, a construct that each individual can shape for themselves or choose to release. It is a reminder that, much like life itself, interpretation can be a path to self-discovery—a journey where, by acknowledging the paradox of meaning, one can find a form of enlightenment, a liberation in the act of simply being. Take this as your official invitation to visit the exhibit, enjoy each piece in the quiet of the space and allow them to take you on a journey.